I saw that the makings of the escalators have been installed in what will finally be the home of the 2nd Avenue Subway.
Completion is slated for December 2016. Because this subway line has literally been (almost) a hundred years in the making, I guess MTA saw it necessary to work overtime.
At 11:30 p.m. 😐
‘Why Don’t You’ is my weekly tribute to legendary editor Diana Vreeland who penned a column of the same name for Harper’s Bazaar for 26 years begging, “Don’t just be your ordinary dull self. Why don’t you be ingenious and make yourself into something else?”
Here’s the thing. I’m constantly on the hunt for pieces that ultimately make my apartment feel like me.
It’s a tiny—but big by New York’s standards—studio so I have to be super selective about what I bring home (oooh, there is a joke in there somewhere…).
Last month, I journeyed to Shelter Island to lunch with Jonathan Adler at the vacation home he shares with his husband, Simon Doonan, the creative director at Barneys, natch. “It’s totes chill—it’s like the anti-Hamptons,” he said of his home away from the city.
We were there to toast to his work with Ford. He mapped out a road trip that would meet the fashion girls’ travel needs in honor of the Mustang’s iconic 50th birthday—but I couldn’t stop staring, mouth agape, at their space.
Carrie Bradshaw said it best.
“Every year the women of New York leave the past behind and look forward to the future. This is known as New York Fashion Week.”
I love this city, I hate it sometimes, too. In an effort to keep track of my feelings about the Big Apple during my time here I try my best to chronicle them in a letter to this crazy place. Welcome to Dear New York–a series posted monthly on the anniversary of the date I moved here.
I’m a little late this month. I know, I’m sorry. My eyes are literally burning. My elbows hurt from spending more time at the computer than not between the xoNecole launch, my Levo pieces and the day job.
I love it.
But I hate that I perform my best under stress and pressure. I hate that I need a million things to feel focused enough to excel at the three I want to do the most.
How will I ever be a healthy functioning grown *ss woman if I have to constantly have my hand in so many things?
I’m not good at sitting down.
Or being still.
I make fun of my mother all the time for being the same way. She’s always moving. Always fixing something, it’s always something with that lady.